Secret Garden
by LolaCherryColaGirl
Summary: Hoping to find some comfort at her favourite place Victoire Weasley has to learn something, most of us already know. A short oneshot about growing up.


**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter.

**Her Secret Garden**

"_There used to be fairies, there used to be magic, now there grows poisonous berries, and it looks so tragic, in her secret garden …" – __Secret Garden by Me.._

Victoire Weasley has been wandering around her small room in Shell Cottage for a while now, aimlessly picking up random objects, only to drop them again. Frustration is obvious in her dark eyes as she searches for something unknown.

Her shimmering blonde hair falls forward to hide her beautiful face as she bends down and lifts up a couple of dolls, figuring she'll arrange a small tea party. Maybe borrow one of her mother's dresses, without telling her of course …

But already before she's put down the dolls again Victoire has realized that the thought of dressing up in her mother's clothes is far more appealing than actually playing with toys. So instead she drops to her bed, her chin resting on her hand and a sulky expression much like her mother can manage, often used on her father. By both of them.

She hugs her oldest and most treasured stuffed animal, in the shape of a hippogriff that was a birthday present from Teddy Lupin, close to her chest, but not even that can bring her comfort right now.

With a defeated sigh Victoire get's back up from her bed and locates her shoes with some difficulty as her room is a mess now, but she doesn't bother to clean up once her shoes are on and she heads out the door. She ignores the calls from both Dominique and Louis to come play with them, and her father's question of where she's going as she almost runs outside.

The unmistakable sound of waves washing up on shore and the smell of the ocean that she's known all of her life is what calms her down again, and she more casually strolls into the large forest by the side of Shell Cottage, stopping only briefly to put fresh flowers on the well kept grave of a house elf she hadn't had the chance to know.

Victoire hurries so much that she barely notices the branches that cuts her bare arms as she makes her way through the forest, following a route only she knows.

With a family as large, and nosy, as the Weasley family and younger siblings it isn't surprising than ever since she was little Victoire has had a need for a place that was all her own. Her room doesn't really count as Louis has a habit of bursting in without knocking.

One day Victoire had been so annoyed with him that she had kept on walking and walking through the forest, further in than she had ever went before, and further than her parents allowed, eventually finding _the _spot that she would always return to in later years.

A small brook run through the forest apparently and old, large oak trees grow around it, casting shadows, but also allowing some sunlight to shine through. To Victoire the place is absolutely full of magic. And not the kind she is taught about at Hogwarts, but the kind of truly fantastic magic there was in the Muggle fairytales auntie Hermione would read to her from time to time.

No matter what despair Victoire has been in she can always find comfort in the daydreams she gives herself away to when she's there.

Suddenly Victoire stops her mad dash, pushing some stray hair behind her ears and rubbing a sore spot on her arm she looks around. To her horror she realizes that she has gone too far! This has never happened before and as she walks back on the way she came from a worry settles itself deep inside Victorire even though she tries to push it away, ignore it.

Only tripping over a large root from one of the oak trees causes Victoire to find her special spot.

Only today there is no magic there …

Looking around she tries to recall all of the fantasies that she had made up about the place and all of the tales auntie Hermione had made her familiar with. All of it seemed silly to her know.

While getting on her feet again after her fall, the worrying feeling grows bigger and deeper inside Victoire. Like all other children she has been warned that this would some day happen, but she hasn't expected the loss she now feels.

She has always thought growing up would be fun, that you would get to do and try all the things your parents keeps promising you can when you get a bit older.

But now when Victoire hugs herself and looks around her secret garden she wishes it could look to her like it used to.

**A/N: **Man … I'm depressed by my own story. I think I have to go read Peter Pan. But please do review!

**X X X LolaCherryColaGirl**

**PS: **Forgot to add that I was inspired by my own poem with the same title.


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